Saturday, April 25, 2020

When I Go

I have often wondered what I would tell my sons if I knew my time to leave this earth was known to be soon.  I have planned in my mind for a funeral that would not be conventional. Of those who know me, that shouldn't be a surprise.  These have been my thoughts

A concert of songs that meant something to me.  From Hymns to contemporary praise songs of my day (definitely not this generations' examples), to anything else.  Anything with the exception of Iz, as he has been used to excess.  I do prefer a live performance.

I remember a comedy album by Bill Cosby of his funeral where he would have a recording playing as people payed their respects at the casket.  I imagined it would be like a magic eight ball.  I would have pre recorded a series of greetings, Good to see you, you are looking well, hows your mom, Didn't I say no Hawaiian shirts?, and my favorite,  Hey, I didn't expect you to come!!  I would have Jared program it to randomly play and match the visitor like musical chairs.

Im still debating on the eulogy.  Every funeral is more or less memories of the good stuff.  How great the person was.  I don't imagine that would take a long time with me.  It would be more of he was a little strange, quirky; OK, He was a pain in the ass.

It is more of a hope that for the mistakes and misjudgments in life that affected the ones I love are forgiven.  And maybe..... I did do a few things right.

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Beggars Cant be Choosy


Ok, we (or according to the wife, me) are of the age where I can take advantage of certain senior services.  I can shop at the early store hours (if I wake up in time), be scolded into not venturing out of the house (age and high risk issues), and receiving offers of TP from private stashes (really).  The city of Torrance offers delivery of groceries to seniors for $55.

Among the bounty in a large Lowes box, we found a gallon of milk (for the lactose intolerant and as a creamer for her morning coffee), a large chunk of cheese (government style issue), a large tube of ground beef (so much for my craving for a Rascals Teri Avocado burger), a carton of liquid eggs (actually not bad) and the most valuable; 4 rolls of toilet paper, individually wrapped and double ply.  Just not exactly Costco premium.  


           

Social Distancing

Time for a haircut, Im starting to look like Professor Irwin Corey.  
Barbers are not classified as essential services.

Friday, April 17, 2020

Losing It

As I have written in the past, this all seems familiar.  During six months of Chemo Therapy, I was confined to the house, wearing a mask in public, washing my hands, and practicing isolation.  OK, I admit I have practicing isolation most of my life.

Only three weeks in, I started to feel the walls close in.  Being in Jordan's old room, tied to my work laptop and cell phone, I was mentally suffocating.  When Gayle is on her zoom conferences, Im stuck in the room with only access to the bathroom.  I can easily hear her scream for help (don't tell her as I often claim ignorance) or talk with her colleagues and student's parents.  And that is with the hall and bedroom door closed.  When I get desperate, I sneak out the front door.

Gayle tends to disappear in the early morning, coming home some time later with bags of stuff.  Groceries, stuff from her classroom, Daiso, and various snacks and lunch items.  Me, I walk out the front door and pull weeds.  Yes, you have figured out that after more than three weeks I am still pulling weeds.  I have enough stress relieving work for at least another month.

I thought I would not ever miss Chemo, but at times, it was easier to cope, due to unavoidable known physical condition.  Today is avoiding some feared unknown.  Hope you are safe and well.


Friday, April 3, 2020

Wada Top Five

WTF, Those letters are interpreted in different ways.  When Jordan was in high school, he wrote for the school newspaper and penned a column called "Wada Top Five".   Of course there was a double meaning implied that he somehow got away with.

The term comes up as I read an article on Andrew Yang today, where he is calling out to Asian Americans “We Asian Americans need to embrace and show our American-ness in ways we never have before,”  That hit me in two ways.

One, my short documentary this year is on the Japanese American National War Memorial Court honoring those JAs that died fighting for their country, not just WWII, but in Korea, Vietnam and the Middle East.  Was their sacrifice forgotten?


2nd reaction, why do we have to continually prove our American-ness?  Why is there this attitude that we need to prove ourselves?  

Andrew Yang's comments have ticked me off but supplied me with additional material and depth for my film this year.

Wednesday, April 1, 2020

Too Many George's

I just read an article on the most popular boys names in England for the year 2020.  Guess which name is #2?

It’s Like déjà vu All Over Again

I'm quoting Yogi Berra.  A lot of my spare time is now being taken up with my senior video class, Digital Histories.  The Video creation process has given me too many opportunities to purchase various video equipment.   It all started when I created a setup for Jeff and Tiff's wedding Photo Booth and has gradually escalated with the grand delusion of video immortality in You Tube.

Covid 19 has created this need for the three of us to use the internet with video conferencing (Zoom) conference calls via cell phones, etc. LAUSD is changing their methods daily, where Gayle now needs to provide on line teaching content.  We therefore we had to set up a mini studio in our limited space house.  My recent visit to Sony Studios in Culver City was an example of how the sets are crammed into tight spaces with fake walls, and sets set up to take advantage of the limited view of the TV camera.  There is a lot of stuff not seen beyond those TV edges.  In desperate need to hide our stuff, she pulled out an old Japanese screen, a white board from school, and my photo backdrop to block out the rest of the house.  I now refer to it as Studio Wada. 

In the process of setting up Studio Wada, I am continually pulling out stuff from my endless boxes of equipment, spare parts, cables, headphones, etc. to assist in video production.  Everyday I am adding, tweeking and ordering from Amazon the necessary equipment to keep the set of Mrs. Wada functioning.  Of course this requires the services of a media consultant to assist with the technical issues of why isn't the mic working or why isn't the program opening up.  All for the cost of letting him live here in the room he grew up in. 

During the week we overhear each others conference calls, and time our bathroom breaks and coffee addiction trips to the kitchen across Mrs. Wada classroom.  I find myself sneaking out the front door (quietly), around the front porch, around the car in the driveway, through the gate, winding my way through years of incomplete project debris, through the back door to the kitchen.  The alternative is to  crawl commando style beneath the view of the camera.  It's not because I'm too old to get on my hands and knees, but it was due to seeing our dog Jade traverse the set at the bottom of the screen.

The worse aspect of it all is that I have to make sure I'm dressed appropriately in case I accidentally come into view.

It is like I had planned for all this.  Except for the toilet paper.